A Week Without Pony
by Usagibuffy
Summary: What was it like for Darry while Pony was missing? From the fight that caused Pony to run away to his return home, told from Darry's point of view. *Complete*
1. Chp 1: The Fight

A Week Without Pony

By Megan Austinson

Written January 29, 2003

A/N: Hi y'all.  I wrote this story after a conversation with my sister about _The Outsiders.  I first read the book sometime back in junior high, at which point I identified best with Ponyboy.  That was a while ago though, and when I picked it up and re-read it last week, I saw things more from Darry's side.  He's not that much younger than me, and I've often wondered what it would be like to raise my younger siblings.  So here it is, Darry's side of things, from the fight that caused Ponyboy to run away to the night he finally came home._

Disclaimer: Everything in this story belongs to S.E. Hinton.  Certain sentences and scenes are lifted almost exactly from the book, but that's what happens when you rewrite a scene from another person's point of view.  Sue me if you like; I'm a starving musician and college student.

Chapter 1: The Fight

January 30, 2003

It was taking all the concentration I had to sit there in that chair, staring at the newspaper.  I'd been reading the same story for the last half hour, and I still had no idea what it was about.  A small sigh caught my attention and I looked over to where my middle brother lay stretched out on the couch, sound asleep.  Sodapop stirred slightly but didn't wake and I found myself envying him.  He got to sleep while I waited up, scared to death that our youngest brother wouldn't make it home.

I looked at the clock again.  It was just about two in the morning.  Ponyboy was supposed to be home at midnight.  I knew he'd gone to the movies with most of the gang, but still, he knew what time he should have been back.  I shook my head angrily.  That kid brother of mine doesn't use his head.  

I wouldn't have been quite as worried if it wasn't for the incident the day before.  Ponyboy had decided to walk home from the movies alone and got jumped, surprise, surprise.  The Socs had pulled a blade on him, and might have killed him if he hadn't been close enough to home for us to hear his screams.

Our parents had died eight months before, leaving me to finish raising my two brothers.  Sodapop's almost seventeen, while Ponyboy just turned fourteen last month.  I'm twenty.  Thoughts were whirling through my head when the front door creaked open softly.  I leapt to my feet, the worry dissolving into anger.  He shut the door carefully and stood there, biting his fingernails like he always did when he was nervous.

"Where the heck have you been?" I fumed at him.  "Do you know what time it is?"  He shook his head silently.  My kid brother was scared, scared of me, but right then I didn't care.

"Well, it's two in the morning, kiddo.  Another hour and I would have had the police out after you.  Where were you, Ponyboy?" – my voice was rising – "Where in the almighty universe were you?"

"I…I went to sleep in the lot," he stammered dumbly.  I stared at him in disbelief.

"You what?"  By this time I was shouting.  Sodapop woke up and sat upright, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey, Ponyboy," he said sleepily, "where ya been?"  We both ignored him.  Pony looked up at me, a pleading look on his face.

"I didn't mean to," he pleaded with me.  "I was talking to Johnny and we both dropped off…"  

"I reckon it never occurred to you that your brothers might be worrying their heads off and afraid to call the police because something like that could get you two thrown in a boys' home so quick it'd make your head spin.  And you were asleep in the lot?  Ponyboy, what on earth is the matter with you?  You haven't even got a coat on." I couldn't help it.  Sometimes my mouth gets control and says things I don't want it to.  I have a pretty bad temper, always have.

Tears were forming in his eyes and his face was flushed as he defended himself.  "I said I didn't mean to…"

"I didn't mean to!" I shouted.  He shuddered.  "I didn't think!  I forgot!  That's all I hear out of you!  Can't you think of anything?"

"Darry," Soda spoke up.  I'd almost forgotten he was there.  I almost never yell at my middle brother, but I was so mad by then it didn't matter who he was.

"You keep your trap shut!  I'm sick and tired of hearin' you stick up for him."  Both my brothers seemed stunned; I never yell at Soda.  Pony was the first to find his voice.

"Don't you yell at him!" he hollered.  I had been facing Soda, but now I wheeled around and without thinking, slapped him across the face.  Hard.  So hard that it knocked him against the door.

You could've heard a pin drop after that.  Mom and Dad never hit us, and they never let us hit each other either.  As far back as I could remember, no one in our family had ever hit Pony.  I had the distasteful distinction of being the first.

I looked at my hand, the palm turning red.  Ponyboy and Soda had frozen, both with eyes as big as saucers.  A bright red handprint had appeared on Pony's face.  "Ponyboy…" I managed.

In one swift movement, he had opened the door and disappeared through it.  I heard his feet hitting the pavement as he ran down the street.

"Pony, I didn't mean to!" I screamed after him, but it was useless.  He was gone.


	2. Author's Note

January 30, 2003  
  
Okay, so I realize this isn't entirely fair. Here you think I'm updating and I'm just giving you a lousy author's note. But really, I just wanted to assure everyone, there is more to come! This is a three-part fic, with all parts written. I'm just trying to space the parts out a bit to drive you all crazy.::cackles evilly, then looks around innocently:: Oops, was that me?  
  
At any rate, I'd also like to say, I stayed up all night writing this story and nearly killed myself on the way to school at 6:30 the next morning cuz I almost fell asleep while driving! So you'd all better appreciate it. And thanks to all who've reviewed, this is now my second most reviewed story and I've never gotten so many in such a short time!  
  
Raine: I probably have a lot more practice writing then you! I remember writing stuff for this story in school too, but it was in the early mid- 90's, I'm sure you'll improve as a writer!  
  
Burnin' Church Gal: I have to laugh, you remind me of my sister with your hyperness. To answer your question in a roundabout way, I'm old enough to do anything but rent a car. I'm ooooooooooold. I too find myself on Fanfiction.net going, "I gotta be at work in 10 minutes, but I just have to finish this chapter!" I haven't actually been writing fanfiction all that long, only for about two years.  
  
Crazy4nc128, Lil Chaos Angel, MaverickGirl, and Aaliyah-Charity: Thanks for the reviews! I hope you'll all like the rest of it too.  
  
Purified Darkness: Glad you like! 


	3. Chp 2: Coping With Loss

A/N: Thanks to all you lovely people who've reviewed! My family keeps coming in and looking at me funny as I squeal each time I see a new review. I've never gotten so many in such a short time. I was going to wait a little longer to put this part up, but I'm afraid Purified Darkness and her monkey are gonna kill me, so here ya go. I've taken some liberties with this part; I hope all y'all like it. Only one more chapter to go!  
  
  
  
Chapter 2: Coping with Loss  
  
February 1, 2003  
  
  
  
I stood there for a few moments, unable to tear my eyes away from my red palm. A hand on my arm jolted me back to my senses and I startled, pulling my arm away from the hand. As I did so, I saw Soda flinch. Great, I thought miserably, now I've managed to make both of my brothers afraid of me. Some guardian I turned out to be. Soda herded me back to my chair and pushed me down into it. I was still stunned by my actions. It seemed Soda had gotten over his shock though, because he started to lay into me.  
  
"How dare you!" he exclaimed angrily. "How could you hit him? He's just a kid, you know he ain't trying to cause trouble, he's jus' absent-minded." Soda kept going, but I wasn't listening, instead drawn back to my hand.  
  
"What have I done?" I wondered aloud. Soda stopped his rambling. It was all beginning to hit me now. Ponyboy had run off, in the middle of the night. He was out on the streets, with no coat and nowhere to go. I didn't know when he'd come back, or even if he'd be back. Soda seemed to know what I was thinking, because he sat on the arm of the chair and began rubbing my back.  
  
"Pony'll come back," he assured me. "He'll probably be hopping mad at you, but he'll be back after he's calmed down." I sure hoped he was right. Suddenly I wondered if I had ever told my kid brother how much I loved him. I mean, I figured he knew, but sometimes, the look he got in his eyes around me, it seemed like he was afraid of me.  
  
Soda was wrong, as it turned out. Pony didn't come back. But the next morning there was a dead Soc in the park and soon fingers were pointing at Ponyboy and Johnny, who'd also disappeared that night. Dally got hauled in by the fuzz for questioning, as usual.  
  
  
  
The next five days were a blur. I ate little, I slept little, and I was so preoccupied at work that I very nearly walked right off a roof. The gang came over every night as usual, but everyone was more subdued. You would have thought it was the two noisiest who were missing, not the quietest ones.  
  
The whole time, one thought kept pounding through my head: this was all my fault. If I hadn't lost my temper, if I hadn't hit him, if I hadn't made him scared of me, he'd be home now, not mixed up in this whole murder thing. I'm sorry, Mom and Dad, I thought sourly. I promised I'd take good care of him, but I sure haven't done a very good job of that. I was losing everyone I loved.  
  
  
  
The day after Pony had run off, I came home from work to find Soda sitting alone on the couch, crying. I immediately dropped my jacket and keys and rushed to his side. "Soda, what's wrong?" I asked worriedly. He just leaned against me and continued to cry softly. I rubbed his back, hoping that whatever had him so upset wasn't anything to do with Ponyboy. Finally he calmed down enough to tell me what had happened.  
  
"Sandy.she's gone." he sighed sadly. "She moved to Florida." It took a while for me to get the whole story out of him, but apparently he had proposed to her and her parents hit the roof. They sent her to her grandmother in Florida instead and he was to have no further contact with her. Poor kid, I thought, hugging him tight. Ponyboy and Sandy in one week were just too much.  
  
The next few days were awful. The only thing on my mind was that I was the cause for all the mess. Soda cried himself to sleep every night, which was unheard of for my usually happy-go-lucky brother. I started doing something unusual too: I started drinking.  
  
I drank some in high school, though I rarely got drunk. It was more of social drinking then. After Mom and Dad died though, I started drinking more heavily. The funeral had passed by about two weeks earlier when Soda found out. Pony was oblivious, too wrapped up in his own grief to question, but Soda. Night after night he'd watch me come in later than I should have, sometimes barely able to propel myself to bed. Finally, one night, he got in my way. I'd pushed him against the wall, harder than I really meant to.  
  
"Darry," he'd whispered as his eyes filled with tears. When I turned at him angrily, he'd cowered. That was when I realized the mistake I was making. Without me, my brothers would have no chance of staying together, no chance of having anything like a normal life again. And if the state found out about my drinking, they'd take away the only people I had left. That was the last time I'd had alcohol, until now.  
  
Soda didn't know about my return to drinking until I came home on the third night Pony'd been missing. I'd gone out with some guys from work and had too much. Getting from the car to the house was difficult, as the ground wouldn't stay put. Finally I dragged myself into the living room and collapsed on the couch.  
  
"Darry?" Soda appeared from the hall, looking worried.  
  
"Hey, little buddy," I said. My words slurred together just a bit. "Shouldn't you be in bed?" I wasn't sure what time it was, but it was late.  
  
"Are you drunk?" Soda stared at me, wide-eyed. I thought there was a little fear there in his eyes, but at that point I really didn't care.  
  
"Maybe a little."  
  
"Why?" It was a simple question, but so hard to answer. To be honest, I didn't really know, so I remained silent.  
  
"Darry," Soda said. I could tell he was getting mad.  
  
"Ponyboy hates me," I said miserably after a long minute.  
  
"I'm sure he's gotten over you hitting him."  
  
"No, not for that. Well, probably for that, but he hated me before." My middle brother was quiet, so I continued rambling. "I've heard him talking to the rest of you, Two-Bit told me what he'd said that night, he thinks I want to stick him in a boys' home." I was babbling by now, which just goes to show you how drunk I was. "I just don't want him to get hurt, he doesn't use his head, I couldn't stand if anything happened to him, I mean, I really do love him and now I'll never get to tell him, I drove him away."  
  
"Hey, it's okay," Soda finally said. "He doesn't hate you, he's just a mixed up little kid. And he'll be back, I know he will." He hastily wiped at his eyes. We were both quiet for a minute.  
  
"I'm going to bed," I said, standing abruptly. The room swam before my eyes and I grabbed at the wall to steady myself. Soda moved to help me, but I shook my head. "I'm okay," I said, throwing him a halfhearted grin that he didn't return. I staggered to my room and collapsed into my bed. I stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, then started as Soda entered my field of vision.  
  
"Darry, don't drink anymore," he pleaded. He was crying and I thought to myself, he looks so young and scared. Sometimes I forgot he was only sixteen.  
  
"I won't, little buddy," I said softly, then patted the bed. "Come here."  
  
Soda lay down and curled up against my side. He put his head on my chest and an arm across my stomach, and suddenly I realized I'd not only failed Ponyboy, but I'd failed Soda as well. He'd lost not one, but two of the people he cared about most and instead of me comforting and taking care him, here he was taking care of me.  
  
"I'm sorry," I said aloud.  
  
"Mmm, for what?" He was almost asleep.  
  
"I haven't been a very good brother this week, I'll do better, I promise. For you and for Ponyboy." Sodapop didn't respond. He was asleep. 


	4. Chp 3: Home at Last

A/N: This is the last chapter of this story. I feel the need to say again, these characters are not mine in any way, shape, or form. Also, much of this chapter is a rewriting of a scene in the book. Don't sue me, I'm still a starving musician and college student who lives at home.  
  
Chapter 3: Home at Last  
  
February 3, 2003  
  
  
  
The phone rang late on the fifth day of Pony and Johnny's disappearance. I was too busy wallowing in my own guilt to bother answering it, so Soda did. I didn't pay much attention to his side of the conversation, but when he hung up, he practically jumped on me.  
  
"They found him!" he said gleefully, eyes sparkling again. I stared at him, not understanding what he was telling me. "They found Ponyboy, he's at the hospital. They said something about a fire, they took him to the hospital, but he's ok." On and on he rambled as he dashed around the room, finding his shoes and looking for his coat.  
  
"Darry!" he said impatiently. At the look on my face, he stopped. "What's the matter?"  
  
"He's gonna hate me," I said softly. Soda came over and hugged me.  
  
"No he won't. And even if he does," he added with a mischievious look in his eyes, "we still gotta claim him. Do you think the state would let us make stew out of him?" He dodged my half-hearted swing and ran, giggling, out the door. I pushed myself up from the chair and followed him.  
  
  
  
The hospital was as large and intimidating as ever. I licked my lips, remembering the last time we'd been here, after Mom and Dad's car accident.  
  
"C'mon!" Soda said, bounding along ahead of me. We entered the emergency room and found the front desk.  
  
"Hi, we got a call telling us my brother is here," I told the nurse at the desk.  
  
"Name?" was all she asked.  
  
"Ponyboy Curtis." She raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything as she rummaged through a stack of clipboards. A fat middle-aged man standing next to the desk smiled when he heard Pony's name.  
  
"So you're Ponyboy's brothers," the man said, smiling. "Nice kid, hero, you know."  
  
"Where can we find him?" I interrupted. I was not in the mood for people wasting my time. Unfortunately, the nurse decided right then to hand me a clipboard.  
  
"Please sign these," she said, sounding bored.  
  
"I'll go tell him you're here," the fat man offered. He walked away from us, down the hall to a set of double doors marked "Waiting Room." Soda fidgeted impatiently next to me. It only took a minute to sign Pony's release forms, but that was a minute too long for Soda. As soon as I handed the clipboard back, he took off down the hall to the double doors.  
  
I entered to find Pony in Soda's bear hug. Soda had actually lifted him off the ground and was swinging him around. Pony looked happy enough to cry. Soda finally set him down and pushed back his hair, which was shorter and blonder than it had been last time we'd seen him.  
  
"Oh, Ponyboy, your hair.your tuff, tuff hair." Then Pony noticed me and the smile dropped off his face. I jammed my fists in my pockets and just looked at him. I didn't know what to say.  
  
"Ponyboy." My voice was husky and I felt wetness on my cheeks. I hadn't cried in years and yet tears were running freely down my face.  
  
We stared at each other for a long minute before I turned away. It was obvious to me that he blamed me, and well he should. This mess was all my fault. In that moment, something seemed to snap inside him.  
  
"Darry!" he screamed, and suddenly his thin arms were wrapped around my waist, squeezing as hard as he could. "Darry," Ponyboy said again as I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him back, "I'm sorry."  
  
I stroked his hair, still holding him tightly as I tried to choke back the sobs that shook my whole body and threatened to escape my mouth. "Oh, Pony," I managed to get out, "I thought we'd lost you.like we did Mom and Dad." He didn't respond, just held onto me tightly with his head pressed against my chest. I had never been so glad to hold someone in my arms.  
  
  
  
The three of us stayed there in the waiting room for hours, hoping for some news of Dally and Johnny. Not long after Soda and I got there, a bunch of reporters showed up, along with the cops. The reporters just kept tossing questions at Pony, until I noticed how confused and nervous he looked. Finally I got fed up and yelled at them. Thankfully they slowed down, and Pony looked relieved.  
  
I couldn't keep my eyes off him. My littlest brother had changed so much in the five days since I'd seen him last. He was pale, and he'd lost weight. His hair, formerly reddish-brown, had been bleached blond, and I found myself wondering what he and Johnny had used to cut it off; it was short and ragged.  
  
Soda was finally acting like himself again. He was mimicking the reporters, lifting things and returning things, and just generally getting into the thick of things. Finally though, he got tired of them and stretched out on the bench next to me. Without a word, he dropped his head on my lap and went to sleep. The reporters and cops finally left and it was just the three of us sitting there.  
  
Pony looked as tired as I felt, like he was about to nod off any minute. Soda sighed, drawing mine and Pony's attention. I grinned down at him half- heartedly.  
  
"He didn't get much sleep this week," I told Pony softly so as not to wake Soda. "He hardly slept at all."  
  
I guess Soda wasn't as asleep as I thought, because he responded sleepily, "Hmm, you didn't either." He sat up, still half asleep, leaving me free to track down a doctor. We were all exhausted and the sooner we could get home and sleep, the better.  
  
The news wasn't good. Pony grew even paler as we listened to the doctor, and by the time the doc had finished, he was trembling and on the verge of tears. Soda just sat there, fully awake but stony faced, as though he hadn't heard a word the doctor said. His eyes betrayed the truth though; instead of dancing and sparkling, they were bleak and stunned. I had my arm around Pony and rubbed the back of his head softly.  
  
"We'd better go home," I said. "We can't do anything here." I lead my little brothers to the car and they climbed in, Soda in front and Pony in back. By the time I pulled up in front of the house, Pony had conked out, leaning back against the seat. Soda managed to drag himself out of the car and opened Pony's door. He started shaking Pony gently.  
  
"Hey, Ponyboy, wake up. You still gotta get into the house." Pony sighed and lay down on the seat without opening his eyes. Soda was starting to get frustrated, and to tell the truth, so was I. Soda shook him a little harder, pleading, "Come on, Ponyboy, we're sleepy too." Pony didn't move.  
  
I'd had enough, so I nudged Soda aside, leaned into the car, and pulled Pony out. Soda shut the car door and hurried ahead to open the front door as I carried my sleeping brother into the house.  
  
"He's getting mighty big to be carried," Soda remarked as we entered the house. Pony yawned in response.  
  
"He's sure lost a lot of weight," I said. We entered the bedroom they shared and I half dropped, half set him on the bed. Pony was so out of it he didn't even wake up when he hit the mattress. Soda and I pulled Pony's shoes and shirt off, then I said goodnight and went to my own room. Funny thing was, tired as I felt, I couldn't sleep. I rolled off my bed and walked back to Soda and Pony's room.  
  
It was a full moon that night and the moonlight illuminated the room. Soda was already asleep, his arm draped across protectively across Pony, who lay in the same position I'd left him in. They both looked so young lying there, and I was reminded again of the burden I carried, the burden of raising them. This time though, the task before me seemed less daunting.  
  
I stood there in the doorway for a long time, gazing at the two people I loved most in the world. We were finally back under one roof and things were going to be okay. I wasn't going to let anything pull us apart again.  
  
  
  
A/N: That's the end. Thanks to all of you who read my story and more thanks to those who reviewed! I hope you enjoyed it. Watch for more stories coming soon to a computer near you. 


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